You Are and I Am
by Miss Mary Sue
Summary: The Boy Without Glory: “So?” she said, as if pronouncing his actual name held any importance. “You are the Horseboy and I am the Landlord’s Daughter. I’m very much different from someone like you.”


_Disclaimer: The Boy Without Glory does not belong to me._

**YOU ARE AND I AM**

Emily Levinson always knew she was different from everyone else.

When she paced the streets of her town, admiring eyes turned. Wavy brown hair grazed her hips with every stride, pale skinny arms glided with each step, like a ballet dancer floating across marble floors. The emeralds on her soft face of the moon gazed mysteriously, the foreign irises that danced under lights shimmered like the jewels her father gave her every birthday. Yes, diamond necklaces and golden earrings draped over jewelry boxes, because people knew her gifts were supposed to be the very best. So higher the piles became, hundred carats and two hundred carats and five hundred carats until she couldn't count anymore. People knew the extraordinary landlord's daughter liked her riches and trinkets, and after a while she started believing that, too.

Emily wore a bracelet the first time she met Leonard Fletcher. Thirty-three carats of sky blue topaz sterling, she would memorize every time she thought back to that day. Thirty-three carats that scattered and a silk green dress that stained at the fall from a shrill whinnying noise. The horse's shadow grew as it stopped and kicked its front legs up, and Emily felt her feet slipping from the ground and a sore pain on her bottom from the crash.

The nineteen-year-old girl rubbed her dress at the aching spot and heaved a glare once the horse calmed to all four feet and a man stepped out of the carriage. She refused his dirty hand, staggering to stand and gasp at the filth soil onto her garment.

"You've soiled my dress!" she cried, dusting the grime that would not go away.

"I'm so sorry!" The man apologized profusely, "This is my first week here. I didn't know it was your usual routine to walk in the middle of the street—"

"What're you saying? That this was my fault?!"

The newcomer's mouth hung open as if something had clogged his throat, but when the girl's face burned red he quickly said, "I could drive you back to your home, so you can wash your clothes…"

"I would never take a carriage ride," she replied with an acid tongue, "especially yours, Horseboy!"

The green dress coughed dirt and dust with a final pat. Emily huffed, ready to turn back and order the mayor for an execution by his head, until her ear caught a faint murmur from the carriage driver's lips.

"It's Leonard."

The girl gazed at him strangely. He had been staring at the ground, taking a sudden interest in his poor man shoes, but his fingers balled into fists.

"Excuse me?" she said.

The man snapped his head up. Usually, when one met at Emily's face, they would stop to stare entranced at the unusual orbs of green. But his gaze smoldered, as if he could see past the jade and pretty light and watch the secret shadows that flitted her mind. "It's Leonard Fletcher, not 'Horseboy'."

Horseboy said this so seriously, so resolvedly, that Emily couldn't help but scoff after a few seconds of passing, murky thoughts. "So?" she said, as if pronouncing his actual name held any importance. "You are the Horseboy and I am the Landlord's Daughter. I'm very much different from someone like you."

"Being the landlord's daughter and looking pretty doesn't mean you're different."

The words caught Emily so off guard she thought she might trip on her feet again. She stared at the boy with a different kind of odium, with rosy lips that were actually twisted and emerald eyes that were actually a bitter jade. Her body trembled, seething, at the audacity from the stranger.

Who was he to say that? Anyone could tell he was the most average person in the world. Unlike her, he was the most normal in life, the most content with life—

"You wouldn't understand," Emily muttered, and ran off, the angry flush in her face no longer because of a stained dress.

~*~

The ornaments in her room shook as the door slammed shut. Emily fell over the side of the bed, burying her head in her arms. She shook with utters that sounded like sobs, but no tears flowed down her cheeks, nothing except for the back of the girl's eyes burning. Even she didn't understand the reason for being upset. That boy had ruined her whole evening, and perhaps because of the way he had automatically assumed, judged entirely based on looks and status, that she had it all so easy.

Mr. Levinson's voice called from downstairs, but her father could not lift hypocritical thoughts prowling her mind. Muffled noises said something about a birthday, in the afternoon, at their house, tomorrow, presents, for who, who…

Her. Who could forget? Emily yelled a 'fine', her response effectively evading her father from turning the door knob. Yes, another birthday party for Emily, just like each one every year. More parties and more jewelry and more friends and family who poured sweet diabetic compliments, She's so beautiful, so beautiful. And then more stuffed necklace boxes and crammed earrings, all wedged to the rim until one day, one day, it just might explode.

Emily wiped her eyes so that when her vision cleared she noticed her bare wrist. She realized she no longer had her thirty-three carats of sky blue topaz sterling bracelet. She realized she no longer cared.

~*~

Sometimes, Emily hated Cynthia Paddock. This was one of those times.

She didn't understand why everyone took carriage rides around town and why her blonde friend couldn't simply walk the short distance herself. Emily always ran fast despite hardly any exercise. In her head, she bet that she could easily outrun the horse, but a demonstration would cause too much trouble and attention, and she had plenty of that already with her birthday party in a few hours. Cynthia rattled on about the special event, arms gesturing colorfully and hands clasping as she winked at the brunette.

"You'll be so delighted when you open my gift. It's possibly the greatest, most thoughtful gift anyone could ever give you."

Emily nodded her head absentmindedly, staring at the back of Horseboy's head. No doubt he eavesdropped on all his clients' conversations, but did he care that he wasn't invited? No, probably not. The boy hardly seemed to notice her.

"Alright, if you insist!" said Cynthia, even though Emily had remained silent. "It's a crown, made from real diamonds! Has an enormous emerald right in the center, too, to match your unusual eyes. You'll look even prettier in it, and…"

Were her eyes that abnormal? People always mentioned them in contrast to her father's small brown ones. She flickered them, focused her attention on the passing pebbles of the ground, and listened to the hooves of the horse beating rather than her friend's rattling fading to background noise. The old horse snorted as it paced along. Emily glanced over to the wrinkles of the back of Horseboy's coat folding here and there with the carriage motion.

She wanted to grab that coat, spin him around and demand him to tell his secret. How he managed to have every townsperson crowd around him yet treat him so normally with barely a side glance. How he could converse so casually with his clients and they would not blink twice at him. And how he thought that she wasn't different, when it was very, truly, glaringly obvious Emily was.

The girl didn't, of course. She kept her lips shut and her hands tightened in a fold over her lap. She held her chin up and watched her house grow bigger as the carriage headed for her party. She'd dance all night with a smile sore from being etched since birth.

~*~

Emily started to understand why people preferred carriage rides rather than walking. Her shoes dodged the puddles and prickly pebbles, feet carefully gliding along the town during the night. She had told her father she'd visit Cynthia's place after the party, when really the girl slipped away on her own.

At the party they had talked about the future and becoming the landlord of the major Levinson property, and she hated that.

Not that Emily didn't want to take over as landlord after her father, of course. The job itself she could accept and actually put effort into. She paid attention to her father's business conductions , she travelled to plenty of other towns for meetings before. Maybe the problem was herself. She couldn't believe in herself. It was hard to think she'd be competent if Emily spent most of her time smiling and nodding whenever the topic of her becoming a landlord took place.

"Yes, you'd be a great one," they'd say. "You're so beautiful!"

"I have no doubts! Why, you're Mr. Levinson's daughter after all!"

Smile and nod. Add a thank you, if necessary. All the usual…

"There's something peculiar about you, Miss Levinson," said one of the guests that night. A distant relative from a faraway town who hadn't seen Emily much scrutinized her. "I don't know how to put it. You don't seem… normal."

That was meant to be a compliment. Emily had cleared her throat after swallowing a drink and excused herself. With the little lie to her father she was able to get away from the bright jewelry and dizzying lights and run.

The wind rustled leaves of trees as she wandered past glowing lights of houses. Birds slept but crickets chirped, and in the blanket of the sky only one star shone. She didn't know where to go and simply followed the way to that star instead.

Wandering aimlessly throughout the town didn't help settle her thoughts. The words still echoed in her mind, as much as she tried to distract herself with her surroundings. Not normal. Subconsciously, that was everyone's thoughts. It wasn't her looks or her status that made her different, but if not, then what was it?

Lightly the girl's foot tapped against a rock, which hurled at great speed against a wall from the side of a building. A shrill noise yelped from the bushes, and a blur shot up against the wall, over the balcony and onto the rooftop. A tail curled from several feet above, and the alarmed cat peered over from its dizzying height. The feline had calmed down but froze upon the daunting height of its standing.

Emily called for the cat but it refused to come down. She glanced left and right, but the closest thing to the building was the tree. She eyed the bark with doubt, but the mew from above made her feet climb and arms reach for a branch. The girl stepped on the limb and leaned against the trunk, hands pressed and sweaty. She only realized this was crazy when she already stood on the tree.

After deep breaths, Emily gritted her teeth and sprinted across the branch and leaped into the air. Her feet glided smoothly across the sky, her arms stretched backwards as she didn't jump, but rather soared. Her body had lifted with ease as if the moon plucked the girl with invisible fingers and let her fly through the air and land over the rooftop, softly on the tip of her toes. She gasped when the wind that had grazed her face stopped and she landed back on the ground. Her heels pressed down and she turned behind her to see the great distance between her location and the tree, and how it seemed almost several feet away. Her heart pounded with the sudden thrill. That jump must have been impossible.

"I did it!" Emily breathed. "I—"

The cat was startled from the motion and jumped down by itself. Emily stopped to watch the bushes rustle as the animal ran far away.

She stood on the rooftop that overlooked the whole town. Here she was, loud and lively when nothing at this time of the night stirred. The crickets stopped chirping, the wind stopped whistling and the leaves stopped crackling. One by one the glow of orange lights from houses went off. The people closed their eyes, unaware, and the single star in the night had disappeared.

Emily sat down in reflective silence. She hugged her knees to her chest as the girl stared at the scenery and watched the town go to sleep, one window after another.

She counted each pane in her head. She didn't move her lips and whisper the numbers. She simply watched in quiet, thinking how lonely it was to be different.

~*~

Emily swore she must have been dreaming.

After all, why would Horseboy suddenly appear in the middle of the night without even a carriage behind him? He said he was simply passing by, and she snorted. She had a feeling he'd been looking for her and couldn't find the girl at the party. He huffed in tired pants as he caught up to her on her way home, and she secretly felt relieved that he hadn't witnessed her jumping off the rooftop. She didn't want to explain how she landed so smoothly, how the dust of the ground seemed to sigh under the soft steps of her shoes.

Emily didn't know how, and she was frustrated enough not knowing. So people should stop making a fuss about everything she did, about how unusual she looked and how strange these abilities—

The white petal drifting to the floor stopped her thoughts from darkening. Emily blinked at the small daisies Horseboy offered her, his arms outstretched and his ears turning pink. They really were small, those flowers. Not enough for a bouquet.

"Happy birthday," he muttered this so quietly she had to strain her ears to hear. "Actually, this is more of an apology. You seemed sad in our carriage ride this morning. I thought you might still be mad at me because of that other day, and, well, I guess it wasn't my right place to say that to you, and…"

Emily's silent stare made Horseboy rattle on nervously. Funny how he didn't realize she had completely forgotten about the incident until now, and yet he had noticed the dejected expression she wore on the carriage ride. Cynthia didn't. Emily herself didn't.

The driver continued his nonsensical rambling until she interrupted, "Not a rose? Not even violets?"

Flustered, Horseboy withdrew the daisies and scratched the back of his head. The flowers hung limp, and another petal fell. "My mother said any girl would like them," he said, "if they're not your type, then—"

He stopped when Emily pulled the bouquet out of the boy's grasp and held them to her face. The flowers tickled her nose as she breathed deeply, inhaled the smell of untouched nature and life and not the usual itchy artificial silk, and let out a sigh.

"Daisies are my favorite."

Emily figured it wasn't a dream when she woke the next morning with light seeping through her window, glimmering over the marbles of the vase on her nightstand that held the pairs of plucked daisies. She smiled, put on a coat, and passed by a trash bin full of velvet red and green replicas as she left the house.

~*~

The boy thought he was probably dreaming too. Emily hopped to the backseat, throwing her luggage to the floor and with a flip of her coat, she told the address of Cynthia Paddock's house. Blankly he stared, until the girl glared and repeated directions again, snappy this time.

"I thought you never take carriage rides," he said.

"Shut up and drive."

He sighed, tugged the leash and the horse stepped forward. Wheels strolled over pebbles and dust, and green irises flitted over canopies of trees and smoke wafting from chimneys of houses. Children chased each other and etched chalk on taupe grounds, parents smiled and waved hello to the girl from the doorways of their homes.

This was the town she'd look over in the future.

Emily rested a hand over the side of the carriage and propped her chin. "Do you think," she murmured from her palm, "I would make a good landlord?"

The driver glanced briefly at his passenger, puzzled, before turning his eyes back on the road.

"Well, sure," he replied.

"Why?"

She sat up and stared at the back of his coat, the tightening of her fists wadding a wrinkled ball over her new dress. The girl didn't care, though. Not as much as the other townspeople thought she would.

She furrowed her eyebrows at the thought of a future where people reacted to their new landlord. They'd celebrate with an elaborate dress, "fit for a pretty girl", they'd say. They'd tell other towns when Emily would visit them, "it's Mr. Levinson's daughter", they'd say. But what else was it about her other than those things, she wanted to ask, what else?

"I don't know." The boy sitting in front of her shrugged. "Being the girl you really are, you'd probably rule over the town with an iron fist."

Emily stared at him for a long moment, lips slightly parted but nothing to say. Being the girl she was? Not the girl with the flowing dresses, or the landlord's daughter, but Emily?

The silence registered as an offended response to the boy and he began apologizing. He stopped once his passenger burst into laughter, mouth opened widely and tears spiking the corner of her eyes. She wiped them off, and after a sigh Emily felt as if a burdening weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

She looked forward to seeing her own name on the golden plate of the landlord's bureau.

Wheels skidded to a stop , pebbles skipping across the pavement. The blinds of Cynthia's window closed as the blonde rushed downstairs from her house. Emily leapt off the carriage, dust puffing from the soft land of her shoes. She tossed her tip to the driver.

"Thank you for the ride, Leonard."

The coins landed in his palms as Leonard turned a gawking head up, his mouth dropped open.

"I thought I was Horseboy."

"Well, since you insist, I'll continue calling you that," replied Emily. She tucked her hands behind her back and spun around to the baffled boy.

"But what does it matter? After all, you are Leonard Fletcher and I am Emily Levinson. We are not that different from each other."

Emily walked towards a waving Cynthia at the front of the house, a small bounce in her steps as she smiled and left Leonard to gape after her and wonder if that really was a dream or not. He closed his mouth, shook his head with something tugging the corners of his lips, and pulled the leash. The carriage drove on, with many more rides to come.

**End.**


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